


Back Across the Rubicon

by FallowDeer



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, POV Outsider, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallowDeer/pseuds/FallowDeer
Summary: An assassin from the future is sent to eliminate the Demon Emperor, preventing a Bad End zombie-apocalypse.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22
Collections: Fic In A Box





	Back Across the Rubicon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ItsPineTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsPineTime/gifts).



More than four hundred years after its destruction the ruins of Pendragon had taken an a more natural shape, overgrown and flooded. This was Pōn’s second visit and it still made him uneasy. He kept the feeling to himself, of course. His current handler’s responses ranged from mildly amused to completely apathetic, there would be no reassurance from her.

She was the only one to see him off—greater numbers meant a greater chance of being detected by the monsters that roamed the wilds. They were the result of many attempts to complete the Demon Emperor’s terrible work, but Pōn was going to fix that. He was going to cut it off at the head.

His handler picked at her nails, bored, and he hurried up in completing the circle. He didn’t need more support. He’d been training for this his whole life, though he never thought he'd actually be here. He was a decent hunter, but nothing exceptional. His handler had used some kind of hidden influence to have him selected, he was sure—she treated him more like a sponsor than a handler. He hoped that meant she was confident in his skills.

“You can’t fail this task,” she said. From anyone else it would have been a fevered reminder: the world was counting on him! She was as indifferent as stone.

He touched the runes and let the present dissolve away into flickering white.

Maybe he should have said goodbye.

* * *

He came to in a dim, narrow hallway. He had to brace himself against the wall to get upright, it was made of smooth burnished metal unlike anything he’d felt before. He had to orient himself, had to figure out where he’d landed. His abilities were not precise.

Clearly it was before the Britannian Capital was destroyed, so he had time to act. Hopefully not too much time. Pōn wouldn’t be able to find the Demon Emperor until he took the throne. The 99th Emperor was a phantasm, a ghost with no history. There were no surviving accounts of Lelouch vi Brittania predating his ascension to emperor—his scouring of the Brittanian nobility’s lineage had been quite complete, and he hadn’t spared himself. 

But after his ascension it was easy, and all Pōn had to do was kill him. He had his gun and his knife, now he just had to physically locate the Demon Emperor.

Simple enough.

The palace was eerily quiet. Even trying to muffle his steps he felt like they echoed down the deserted corridors. His handler walked like a cat, but he'd never had the knack for it. Every room he looked in was clean, but had an unlived-in sterility about it. It took him so long to run into another person he thought maybe the entire palace was abandoned. Maybe he’d gotten his timing perfectly wrong and he was about to be annihilated by the Demon Emperor’s infamous FLEIJA along with the entire Capital City.

Then he found the maid.

He had her pressed up against the wall before she could call for help, knife under her jaw. “Don’t say anything,” he whispered, trying to impart how serious he was with heavy eye contact.

“Do you always look your victims in the eyes when you kill them?” his handler had asked him once, when she’d come to extract him from a particularly messy job. Two families had been infected and he’d hesitated. He didn’t like putting down children.

He’d been surprised enough at her rare show of interest he’d answered without thinking, “Yes.”

She’d laughed at his answer. He’d asked for a new handler after that, but they hadn’t give him one.

He still didn't know what was so funny about it.

The maid looked back at him, smiling slightly, totally unafraid. No—vacant. It was like she didn’t even see him.

“Can you hear me?” he asked her.

Between them her hands were moving, folding the tapestry she’d picked up end over end. He backed away a pace, letting her carefully go, and she moved to where he’d first seen her—the near side of the room and facing the door. She set the folded tapestry down, picked up another and began folding that one too.

How unsettling. At least the monsters of his time looked like monsters.

Well, it was a palace inhabited by a demon.

But now that he knew the palace was occupied, he was paralyzed by a sudden fear of discovery. It had been much easier to open every door when each one proved the whole building was empty.

He was saved by a noise of something—footsteps, two sets?—coming closer, down the hall he’d just ducked out of. He slunk to the door, thankfully open a crack. Was it another automation, or a resident he could actually use?

“Who can say if it’s a joke with her,” a voice was saying. One he recognized.

Of all the members of the Demon Emperor's court, the records of Kururugi Suzaku were the most complete. He appeared, suddenly, in the Brittanian military seven years into their occupation: Honorary Brittanian 404. He was accused and then acquitted of the mysterious death of regional governor Clovis vi Brittania, surviving footage of Zero’s first appearance showed Kururugi as a collared, silent observer during his exchange. He was named Knight of Honor to the Massacre Princess Euphemia li Brittania, and he’d given speeches more than once while in her service. She had enrolled him in the Brittanian school Ashford Academy where he earned mediocre grades and rarely attended. It was generally agreed that he was the son of the prime minister who had committed suicide during Brittania’s first invasion of Japan, but no documentation confirmed it. He'd back-stabbed his way from cannon fodder to the highest order of knight, and it had earned him almost as many bloody names as the Demon Emperor. In his final service his title had been Knight of Zero.

“The Knight will be easy,” his original handler had said. “His loyalty is fickle. Convince him there’s a stronger alternative—one of the enduring factions, or the future Empress—and he’ll move to back the more powerful challenger. And if that doesn’t work, shoot him.”

“You should avoid him,” his final handler had said. “You couldn’t take him in a fight on your best day, and he can’t be reasoned with.”

“The historians say he would betray any master for greater opportunity,” he’d argued, stung.

“What opportunity would you give him? You’d be better off bargaining with Lelouch,” she’d said. It was one of the things that made him think she had been a historian herself. They also slipped into calling the Demon Emperor by name, though she pronounced it strangely.

Pōn pressed his back to the wall and his eye to the door, risking a look. In the flesh, Kururugi Suzaku was shorter than he’d expected. 

Or maybe the Emperor was taller.

“Even if she’s serious, I just think orgies are too decedent!” the Knight was saying. “Must you two try so exactly to recreate the fall of Rome?”

The Emperor was mostly obscured by his Knight, Pōn could see him hold up three thin fingers just as they passed Pōn’s hiding place.

“I humbly beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I’m not an expert on the vocabulary, unlike you. Why don’t you tell me how many people it needs to be to constitute an orgy?”

Pōn shook his head to clear out his ears. There was no way he'd heard that correctly.

When they were well past, Pōn slipping into the hall to ghost after them. He was an excellent shot, if he could get three seconds to aim he’d have it done. It would be better if the Knight were distracted, but Pōn had always known this was likely a one-way trip.

“Why are you here?” his handler had asked him, her first words to him.

“To destroy the Demon Emperor,” he’d answered immediately. He hadn’t flinched from her gaze, sure of his answer. They’d drilled it into him: you just had to focus on the cause. The Demon Emperor had caused the sickness that had caused the monsters, and the monsters had killed his family. Simple.

He must have satisfied her, because she turned to her escort with a slight smile, “I suppose if you’ve all come this far, I might as well.”

And she’d seen him through to this. He’d do it. He just needed those three seconds and a clear shot.

“Why are you here?” she asked, and it took him too long to realize she couldn’t possibly be here.

He whirled around with his gun up. She was just out of reach, only a couple of paces away standing next to an open wall panel. She was dressed like a prisoner and she was holding a hideously ugly creature under one arm. It was so bizarre his aim faltered. “You can’t be here,” he stammered, stupidly.

“Rude,” she said. “I can go where I like. Unlike you. I should probably alert the guards.” She reached out and pressed a button. 

An alarm started blaring.

Pōn’s reality teetered, critically off balance, but the mission took priority. He bolted after the Emperor.

At a T intersection in the hall he made a wild guess and turned right instead of left, going toward the light. It lead into the a cavernous throne room, recognizable from so many of the old broadcasts he’d studied obsessively.

The Demon Emperor was standing, leaning against one arm of his throne and looking away from Pōn, alone and as vulnerable as he’d ever be. Pōn took aim.

—or, he tried to. Somehow he was already on the ground, legs kicked out from under him and his arms twisted tight against his back. Then they were twisted farther, and a blinding pain knocked out his vision. 

It had happened faster than thought, faster than he could see. No wonder she’d told him to avoid the Knight.

Well, he thought as he was dragged up into a kneel, blinking the spots from his sight, this mission was an abject failure. He’d been their only chance. The future was doomed. He’d doomed them.

He met the Demon Emperor’s eyes over the Knight’s shoulder. His final handler hadn’t cared at all about the possibility of his capture. A quick death, his original handler had told him, just in case.

The Knights fingers were already deep in his mouth before he could bite down and release the fast acting poison hidden in his false tooth. Pōn gagged, and then he bit down anyway on the Knight’s fingers. Instead of yanking them out in pain, the man took Pōn by the jaw with his other hand and popped his mouth open neatly, fingers digging expertly into the hinge. He jerked the false tooth out like it was nothing, like it was something he did all the time.

The Emperor was positively delighted. He pushed off the throne and drifted over to them, ran his hand along his Knight’s shoulder and down his arm, leaning over them both to peer at Pōn up close. His eyes were manic, practically glowing with inhuman joy.

“I guess we found that intruder, in record time. You made it farther in than any other assassin, but then panicked and went running straight into capture. What a strange mix of competent and sloppy. I'm intrigued,” the Emperor said. His voice was deeper than Pōn was expecting, even after having studied all the recorded footage in the archives.

Pōn snarled at him as well as he could.

“Answer my questions,” the Demon Emperor said.

And then—

* * *

He came to, handcuffed to a table.

The table had delicate silver filigree twisting around the edges and through its center. It was beautiful. His hands were chained through a decorative flourish, clearly designed to serve both form and function. Pōn’s throat clicked when he swallowed, dry and overworked—it felt like he’d been screaming. 

In his periphery there was movement and he jerked reflexively to face it.

The Demon Emperor finished sliding a glass toward him with the back of his hand. It was a negligent gesture, almost elegant. He flicked his fingers at Pōn and then laced them in front of his face. “You could probably use a drink,” he said. His eyes were narrowed in a look of catlike interest as he watched Pōn with malicious intensity.

Pōn flinched his gaze away from the Emperor’s and down to the glass, strangely uncomfortable with meeting his eyes in a way he’d never been with anyone else. He flexed his fingers, the metal of the cuffs clinking together against the table. He wouldn’t be able to drink without begging for help, which he wasn’t going to do. He didn’t trust whatever then Emperor had given him, regardless.

“You’re an interesting find, Pōn,” the Emperor said to his silence. “Very good for my ego. And you’ve given me such happy news.”

Somebody snorted and Pōn looked to find it was the Knight, leaning on the wall. He seemed unimpressed.

Pōn licked his lips. The words came out dry and cracked, “You have destroyed the world.”

The Emperor reared back, theatrically offended: “Four hundred years is a long time! More than long enough for my beloved Nunnally and any of her heirs to live happy, peaceful, fulfilling lives. I really don't know why you're blaming me for a random scientist unleashing a monster plague.”

How could they know? Did the Demon Emperor read minds?

"Yes, I wonder where anyone would get the idea to make an army of mindless puppets," the Knight answered, which was something of a relief because Pōn was still trying to come to grips with how completely he'd betrayed the world.

The Emperor tisked, visibly annoyed, "None of my puppets eat people. Besides, the future is the future. Obsessive focus on the past is such a wasted effort! I can’t be held accountable for stupidity enacted in my name more than five lifetimes after I’m dead."

“So you've said, Lelouch. But _somehow_ , you’re accountable. So accountable C.C.’s sent a—a time assassin here to kill you. I suppose we should celebrate that the plan to go down as history’s greatest monster was such a success it’s looped back around into being a problem!”

“You are so negative,” the Emperor said. “Nunnally’s alive. I think that's cause for celebration.”

The Knight slammed his hand against the table hard enough it dented. Pōn jerked away, wide-eyed.

“You're being too literal. Time travel isn’t even possible. Just because some random cultist thinks he’s on a mission from the future doesn’t make it true,” the Emperor said with a lazy gesture at Pōn, apparently used to outbursts.

“Why would you say that? Rolo could time travel!”

“Rolo altered his victim’s perception of time. Geass is all in the mind and the will, Suzaku—don’t be an idiot.”

“You are in cahoots with a witch! It's ridiculous that you're denying the existence of magic! The impossible things you’ve seen! The impossible things you’ve made me do, with this curse.”

“I do not claim full responsibility for your impossible feats,” the Emperor said.

“Lelouch, we're not at the point of no return, so why should we pursue Requiem? It obviously doesn’t work," the Knight said. Then he crossed his arms decisively, “C.C. will agree with me and you know it.”

“She'll disagree just out of spite. She'd probably enjoy herself in the monster infested future. She must, if she's taking the time to send incompetent assassins after me,” the Emperor denied, but his eyebrows were furrowed in thought. Pōn was a little worried how much being insulted by a demon hurt.

The Knight stormed out of the room, and Pōn watched the Emperor watch him go.

"It's been a while since anything riled him up like that," the Emperor murmured, staring at the door. Pōn had to look away, his expression was so deeply uncomfortable to witness.

They sat in silence for a long moment before the Emperor turned back. He planted his hands on the table, glittering rings set with jewels that matched his red, red eyes, and he leaned over. He was skinny, almost frail, but he had the intensity of a black hole. Pōn resolved firmly not to speak.

“Well,” the Emperor said, “you’ve succeeded in your mission. The future shall be irrevocably altered. I promise I'll see to it personally. Should I let you be on your way home?”

“What?” Pōn said, shocked immediately out of his silence. His handler had never directly mocked his resolve, but he knew what she thought of him. "Why let me hear that? What are you going to do with me?"

“I enjoy an appreciative audience, Suzaku and C.C. are so overly critical. Why, is it dangerous for you to know I'm happy my beloved younger sister is alive? You won't be around long enough for it to be used against me. Or was it a one-way trip?” the Emperor said. He released Pōn’s chained wrists with a dizzying twist of his long bony fingers. “Either way—Suzaku.”

“Your Majesty,” the Knight answered, striding back in through the open door. He wrenched Pōn up with a choking grip to the back of his collar.

“He never goes far,” the Emperor said as Pōn was dragged from the interrogation room. "Thank you again, Pōn. I'm looking forward to investigating the truth of your story."

“So am I putting you down, or putting you back?” the Knight asked. In his brief time away from the Emperor the fire had drained from him—he sounded tired.

“You’ll let me go?” Pōn asked.

“If it’s back to where you came from, as Lelouch ordered. Suzaku is such a loyal vassal,” his handler said into his ear and he flinched away from her voice. He'd already forgotten that she was somehow here, colluding with the Demon Emperor. She was more at ease than he'd ever seen her in all the years he'd known her, even in her strange prison clothes. It was extremely distressing. “I wish you’d gotten me earlier, I had some of my own questions. He pointed a gun at me, you know.”

“I’m sure you were terrified for your life,” the Knight said. He looked at Pōn and his eyes were hooded, calculating. “How do you want to go?”

When he took too long trying to collect himself his handler poked him in the shoulder, "Well, time-traveler?"

“If-if you bring me to my origin point, I have an exit waiting for me,” Pōn answered her reflexively—though it would be a return in failure. Perhaps she would allow him to try again, now that he had more information than none under his belt.

They escorted him back through the maze of the empty corridors and stood together as he drew the runes that he’d memorized to return.

“Magic,” the Knight observed, triumphant.

“For the ignorant, science is so often indistinguishable from magic,” his handler said. When the Knight sighed she added, "I won't disagree with you if you want to fight with Lelouch about it."

“Goodbye?” he said to them, unsure.

His handler waved.

Pōn activated the runes and and the world faded into blinding white. He watched her for as long as he could, and was watched in return—her gold eyes glittering speculatively.

* * *

The light cleared and he knew the feel of it without even looking. The air was different, gravity shifted just a little—back into its proper place. The ring was as he’d left it, but he was alone in a dark room, not in the pit of the lost city.

He took a step outside of it and something crunched underfoot—a little analogue clock. 10:42.

How strange, he had the chance to think, before he was accosted from behind by nightmarish robotic creatures the likes of which he’d never seen before. He didn’t even have the chance to fight back. 

The creatures bound him, dragged him through the smooth metal walls palace, glittering and covered in red eyes. He was dropped at the foot of a throne. 

“Hello once again, Pōn,” the Demon Emperor said. He looked the same, just as he’d looked when he’d ordered him away minutes ago. The return had failed?

His Knight was back at his shoulder, with lines on his face and gray in his hair. Next to the Emperor’s youth he looked haggard—not just older, but aged. The Knight squinted at him curiously, like he was trying to place him but he’d forgotten. There was something—strange—about his eyes, but it was recognizably the Knight Of Zero, a weathered man just past the edge of his prime. 

“I’m afraid C.C. couldn’t join us at this time,” the Demon Emperor said. He gestured grandly, “Welcome to your future! I hope you're satisfied with what I've done to it.”


End file.
